Time is the Fire
by wildcat7898
Summary: During the events leading up to Star Trek V, Spock and Uhura adjust to being together again. This follows "The Kobayashi Maru."
1. Chapter 1

Title: Time is the Fire

Author: Wildcat

Series: TOS

Rating: MA

Codes: S/U

Summary: During the events leading up to Star Trek V, Spock and Uhura adjust to being together again.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Kirk, Spock, Uhura, and company. I have just borrowed them for a while, and I will not profit from any of this.

This story is a part of my continuing Spock/Uhura universe. It takes place between The Kobayashi Maru and The Secret Gate.

Thanks to my beta readers Jungle Kitty, Suzie, and Ebonbird.

Feedback is desired.

_Each minute bursts in the burning room,_

_The great globe reels in the solar fire,_

_Spinning the trivial and unique away._

_(How all things flash! How all things flare!)_

_What am I now that I was then?_

_May memory restore again and again_

_The smallest color of the smallest day:_

_Time is the school in which we learn,_

_Time is the fire in which we burn._

Delmore Schwartz, 1937

from Calmly We Walk Through This April's Day

Time is the Fire, chapter 1

Uhura walked into her quarters aboard the new Enterprise. "Thank heavens! Sanctuary."

"Indeed." Spock followed her back to the bedroom and placed his duffel next to hers on the bed. "Although I had looked forward to our leave with anticipation, I must confess that I am most satisfied to be back on board the ship."

"Me too. What a disaster! It's been months since we brought the whales back. I would have expected the furor to die down by now." Shaking her head with a mock shudder, she said, "Thank heavens they caught us at the very beginning of our leave, before we checked into the hotel. Wouldn't it have been awful if we'd gotten up tomorrow morning to find the reporters camped out on our doorstep? How do you think they knew we were down there, anyway?"

"No doubt someone recognized us. Although Starfleet Command made every effort to downplay the details, enough became public to draw unwanted attention. Interestingly, the press seemed to be more curious about your notoriety than mine."

She moved close and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Well, you know me, a wanted criminal, aiding and abetting a hijacking. That makes for a much more sensational story." She gazed at him for a moment, and when she spoke again, her tone was serious. "Truthfully, the few details about you that slipped past Starfleet's effort to classify Genesis are just too mind-boggling for anyone to accept. Dying and coming back to life-it's so unbelievable that everyone has discounted it as rumor. Heavens, I still don't know what to think about it, and I'm not exactly an impartial observer."

"No, you are not, and for that I am grateful."

She smiled. "So, what do you want to do for the rest of our leave? We have three days, and we can't just spend them on the ship."

"Perhaps we can limit ourselves to day trips, avoiding the more heavily populated areas."

"That's a good idea. A nice, quiet leave." She kissed him quickly, then turned and picked up her duffel. "Well, I'm going to get ready for bed. Why don't you stay here with me tonight, and maybe we can start early in the morning."

"That is acceptable."

He watched her saunter into the bathroom before he moved to her closet to hang up his clothing. It was difficult to believe that they had been apart for over ten years, for once they had resumed their relationship, it seemed as if no time had passed. As a matter of fact, he had noticed that it was the same for the entire command crew. Except for the fact that this ship was not yet performing to the standards of the original Enterprise, an uninformed observer would easily assume nothing had ever changed.

She spoke loudly enough to be heard over the running water. "I meant to tell you that I talked to Saavik today. She's really enjoying her new job as the Starfleet liaison to Vulcan Space Central."

"Indeed?" He walked over to the dresser and removed the old blue pajama pants that Nyota had bought for him so many years ago. He found it fascinating that she had never disposed of them. "I am pleased to hear that. I had predicted that she might be disappointed at her transfer from a deep-space assignment."

"Oh, I think she's a little disappointed that she's not on the Enterprise with us, but being on Vulcan makes up for it. Evidently, she and Amanda have been spending a lot of time together." Nyota laughed. "You know that their favorite topic is bound to be us."

"I am quite certain that you are correct."

She leaned out the door. "You don't mind?"

"Actually, I am pleased that they have one another. As a matter of fact, this is probably why we have heard so little about our relationship from Saavik. She has found someone else to satisfy her desire for..." He paused, seeking the proper word.

"Gossip?"

"Yes. That is it."

He pulled back the bedcovers as she chuckled and started brushing her teeth. Reaching for her padd on the bedside table, he sat on the bed and leaned back against the headboard, and began searching for interesting reading material.

"Spock? Do you think I'm getting gray?"

He looked up to see her peering into the bathroom mirror, an expression of concern on her face. Thumbing off the padd, he said, "Are you speaking of your hair color?"

"Of course I am!"

"In that case, yes, I have noticed a substantial increase in the number of gray hairs on your head recently."

She frowned, looking closer at her reflection, "I really do have a lot, don't I?"

"That is to be expected for a human of your age."

"Of my age?" She left the bathroom. "What do you mean by that?"

He hesitated. "You are 49 years old, Nyota."

"I know I'm 49. That's not old!"

"I did not say it was. However, it is not unusual for a middle-aged human to begin noticing changes such as gray hair."

"Middle-aged?"

Uncertain about how to extricate himself from this, he regarded her warily. "If it disturbs you, perhaps you should change your hair color."

She grimaced. "That's an awfully big concession to age."

"Then you should accept it. I do not understand why you are concerned, at any rate. It is only your appearance. It does not change who you are or how I feel about you."

She smiled, and he relaxed. Evidently he had chosen the right words.

Fluffing her pillow, she said, "Maybe I should color it. What would you do if it were you?"

"I have not considered the matter. It will be many years before I-"

"Never mind! I get the idea." She tossed the pillow back onto the bed. "Anyway, I'm not going to color it. As a matter of fact, I think it's flattering. It's not gray, exactly. More a silver color."

He put down the padd and moved to the edge of the bed. "Are you finished in the bathroom?"

"Yes, go ahead. Don't you think it's more silver than gray?"

Making no effort to hide his amusement, he said, "Nyota, I have always found you very attractive, and that has not changed. If your hair color concerns you, however, you should alter it. You always have been rather vain-"

She straightened indignantly. "I have not!"

He looked at her without speaking, and finally she laughed. "Okay, maybe a little bit." Pushing the strap of her nightgown up on her shoulder, she sat beside him. "It's just that growing old has always been a little scary to me. Silly, I know."

"It is illogical to resist a natural process."

She tucked a leg underneath herself, and the strap slid off her shoulder again. Returning it to its proper place, she said, "That's easy for you to say. I have more body parts than you do that will be affected by gravity."

"So I have noticed."

"I'll bet you have."

The strap fell from her shoulder yet again, but when she adjusted it, he quickly covered her hand with his own and pushed it back off. She looked into his eyes in surprise.

Brushing his lips against her shoulder, he murmured. "And I assure you that not a one has yet been adversely affected by gravity."

She wove her fingers through his hair and laughed throatily. "Oh, you sweet talker."

He did not comment, instead using his tongue to trace a pattern on the cool, soft skin at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. She shivered and tightened her grip on the back of his head, but he did not allow her reaction to lessen his attention to the exploration of this portion of her body. Everything about her was so familiar, yet so exotic-her slightly salty taste, her warm scent. He had used only the most perfunctory of his senses to observe her for the last ten years, and now it seemed that he could not get enough of her.

Sliding his hand across her back to brace her, he increased the pressure of his mouth against her shoulder. She inhaled sharply, and abruptly he experienced a surge of almost overpowering desire. He pushed the nightgown off her other shoulder and pulled her against him, running his teeth and lips roughly over the base of her neck. His actions forced her off-balance, and he could tell that only his hand on her back kept her upright.

Leaning her head back to expose more of her neck, she whispered, "Oh, yes."

Not ceasing his attention to her neck and shoulder, he ran his hand down the side of her body until he found the hem of her nightgown. She was still seated on her leg nearest him, but even though her gown was pinned on that side, he was able to push it out of the way until he cupped her bare buttock in his hand. She moaned, shifting in an attempt to press her body to his, so he tightened his hold until he had pulled her onto his lap.

Suddenly the aggressor, she straddled him, grinding herself against him. The unexpected pressure of her body against his caused him to briefly lose control, and he bit her shoulder hard enough to leave teeth marks. He was immediately aware of what he had done, and he forced himself to move his lips to the top of her barely exposed breasts.

Blindly reaching down, she pulled the nightgown up to her waist. The silk of his pajamas was slick and cool, and he knew that she was seeking the sensation of the silk against her own flesh. Inflamed again by her brazen carnality, he tightened his grip and turned, flipping her onto her back and covering her with his body.

She was panting now, rubbing herself against him. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the feeling of the thin, increasingly damp fabric as it slid back and forth across his erection. He knew that it would be easy to reach orgasm like this, but he held onto his control. As she grew increasingly abandoned, he diverted his thoughts to providing her with as much pleasure as possible so that he would not dwell on his own sensations.

Stiffening, she threw her head back with an unintelligible cry. Her fingers tightened spasmodically on his back, and he pressed his lips to her neck, fighting against his own urge for release.

"Oh, Spock." Her voice was hoarse, and she continued to press herself against him while fumbling with the drawstring at the front of his pants. "I want you in me, just like this."

"Yes, Nyota. Yes."

He paused only long enough to assist her attempt to loosen his pants, and he gasped when he felt her cool hands around his erection. An instant later, he was poised at the entrance to her body, and it was a simple matter to slide into her moist, welcoming depths.

Without hesitation he began pumping, holding her gaze as he thrust into her body. He studied her face-her large, dark eyes, her full lips-and it struck him that the sight of his own pleasure reflected in her expression was immensely rewarding. Not wishing to wait another moment to possess all of her, he found her meld points with his fingertips.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and he felt her satisfaction at the contact of his mind against her own. She welcomed him, wanted him, found joy in their union-the recognition of how right this was brought him to the edge, and he finally decided to surrender himself to release. His fingers never leaving her face, he tilted his head back and knew vaguely that she was with him, their thoughts soaring together until they found themselves back in the bed, limbs entangled, panting for breath and drained of energy.

Not opening his eyes, he stroked her face while they waited for their heart rates to slow. He had propped himself on his elbow at some point, but his arm quickly grew too weary to support his weight, so he rested his head on the pillow beside her.

He opened his eyes at her gentle chuckle.

Her breath warm against his cheek, she said, "So much for getting to bed early."

"Whatever we choose to see tomorrow will still be there, even if we do not rise when originally planned."

"Good point. Besides, this was a much better way to start our leave." Tracing a light pattern on his back, she smiled when he shivered. "I have to tell you that I really missed this when we were apart. You ruined me on sex with anyone else."

"Good. I am pleased to hear that."

She laughed, and he allowed the corner of his mouth to turn up in response. They gazed at one another for a long moment, but when she shifted, he knew that his weight had grown too great for her. He rolled onto his back and pulled her up against his chest. Soon they would need to sleep, but for now he was content simply to hold her.

...

Stretching lazily, Uhura listened to the sound of running water as Spock finally prepared for bed. She hadn't been kidding when she had said that this was a great way to start their leave. She'd trade a full night's rest for sex like this any time.

The bathroom light went off, and a moment later she felt his weight in the bed. Snuggling up next to him, she asked, "So, what should we do tomorrow?"

"Would you rather visit a wilderness area or an historical site?"

"Oh, I don't know. As long as the weather is nice, I don't really care."

"It would be a simple matter to alter our previous plans and explore the French countryside."

"That might be fun," she said wistfully, "but I'm really disappointed we had to cancel our weekend in Paris. That would have been perfect!"

He was quiet for a long moment. "Then perhaps we should go to Paris."

"You know we can't do that," she said with a smile. "Someone would recognize us, and before you know it, every tabloid in this part of the galaxy would have a holo of the two of us right under a headline speculating about our relationship."

"Would that be so bad?"

She opened her mouth but didn't know what to say. After a moment, she drew back in order to look into his eyes. The room was too dark for her to see anything more than the outline of his head, however.

"Are you ready for that?" she asked.

She could tell that he was studying her face, and she really wished the lights were up so that she could try to read him. When he finally spoke, the tone of his voice was no less enigmatic than his expression.

"We kept our relationship a secret before, but I do not wish to do that anymore. As a matter of fact, I think that we should formalize our relationship."

Her heart began to pound so hard that it felt like it was in her throat. "What do you mean?" she whispered.

"I mean that I wish to bond with you. It is only logical. Our current arrangement limits us in so many ways, and now that we are together I intend for us never to part. Bond with me. Now."

"Now? As in tonight?"

"Yes." He ran his fingers over her meld points, teasing her, hinting at what could be. "We are already so attuned to one another that it would be a simple matter. I would touch you just so, and-"

"Wait. Wait a minute. This is so sudden." She sat up and pushed back her hair with trembling fingers. "We've only just gotten back together. I love you and the thought of spending the rest of my life with you is... is incredible, but don't you think this is rushing it?"

"No. I do not." Also sitting up, he leaned forward to emphasize his words. "We have lost so many years, moments that have passed and cannot be restored. It would be illogical to lose even more when we both know that this is right. Please. Bond with me. Tonight."

"It's a big commitment."

"We have already been through this." His voice betrayed a flicker of impatience. "I thought that you had resolved your uncertainties when you agreed to resume our relationship."

"I did, but this is different!"

"How?"

"It... It's bigger. We're talking forever."

"Were we not before?"

"Yes, I suppose, but-"

"Then I do not understand."

"It's just too sudden. I need time to think." She took a deep breath. "Please. Just give me some time. I'm still getting used to the fact that we're back together, and now this... I need some time to get used to the idea. All right?"

He sighed lightly. "I do not understand your reasoning, but if you are not ready to commit to me, then of course I must await your decision."

Unable to reply, she watched as he settled back down.

"You obviously cannot resolve anything tonight." His voice was unreadable. "Go to sleep."

She nodded slowly and put her head on the pillow. "You do know that I love you, don't you?"

"Yes."

She waited for him to say more, but finally she rolled onto her back. She and Spock were separated by only a few centimeters, but it seemed a huge distance. How could he have asked this of her so quickly? It was too much, too soon. She was barely used to the idea of being with him again. Surely he understood.

Staring at the ceiling, she knew that she wouldn't go to sleep for a long time tonight.

...

Waking yet again, Uhura looked up at the chronometer in her ceiling and was surprised at the time. 0713 hours. Finally. She had thought that morning might never come.

She rolled over to see that Spock was sleeping peacefully, and her chest grew tight. Wouldn't it be wonderful to wake up like this for the rest of her life? Seeing him every morning for years and years, growing old together...

The anxious feeling of the night before returned, the weight on her ribcage so stifling that it felt like she was in a pressure chamber, and she rubbed her eyes with both hands. She hadn't slept more than three hours. How could she think clearly like this?

She opened her eyes to see Spock watching her, evidently awakened by her movements. He regarded her for a long moment.

"You do not appear well-rested," he said cautiously.

She snorted. "Well, you're pretty perceptive."

He raised an eyebrow, and she realized belatedly how irritable she'd sounded. Before she could apologize, he reached over and smoothed her hair away from her face.

"Actually, I have been told that I often fail to interpret subtle human emotional states correctly. Perhaps I detected yours because it is so far from subtle."

"I'm sorry. It's just that I didn't sleep well last night. You might say that I had a lot on my mind."

"And?"

"And I still don't know. It's just so soon, and-"

"I see."

His hand dropped, and she bit her lip at the obvious disappointment in his expression.

"Spock, please-"

"Unless you have something new to add, discussion is useless. Have you thought of something we did not already mention last night?"

"No, except... Well, I'm wondering if maybe it would be better if we didn't spend this leave together. It'll be easier for me to think if we're apart."

"Understood."

Watching as he pushed back the covers and climbed out of bed, she said, "Are you sure? It's not that I don't want to be with you, it's just that I need time to think."

He walked to her closet, took off his pajama pants, and reached for the clothing he had hung up last night. "Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy invited me to go camping with them in Yosemite Park. Perhaps if I hurry, it will not be too late for me to join them."

"Please answer me. Are you sure you understand?"

His trousers in his hand, he turned back. "Truthfully? No. I do not. I do not understand at all. As I stated last night, it was my belief that you had resolved your uncertainties when you agreed to resume our relationship. Because we have already covered that, there is no point in discussing it now."

She rose and walked in his direction. "Please don't be hurt. This doesn't mean that I love you any less."

"I am not hurt. I am merely confused."

She couldn't stop herself from becoming exasperated. "Well, so am I."

"Obviously." He turned away and began putting on his clothing.

She moved over so that he would be forced to look at her. "Don't be so unfair! You can't expect me to make a decision like this overnight."

He ignored her as he pulled his shirt over his head, but finally he pressed his lips together and looked in her direction. His demeanor somewhat deflated, he said, "You are correct. That was unfair of me. However, I still do not understand how you cannot see something that is so clear to me. I will allow you your time, but I am reminded of two lines from a poem: 'Time is the school in which we learn, time is the fire in which we burn.' Have you not learned from our past? We have been burned before. I do not wish to see it happen again."

"Oh, Spock. Neither do I."

He nodded, then fastened his jacket and turned to her. Softening, he said, "Of course. I know that you do not."

"Please have fun in Yosemite. I'll see you when you get back."

"And what of you? Do you truly intend to spend your entire leave here alone?"

She shrugged. "Scotty said something about supper tonight at his favorite Aberdeen pub. I told him I was busy, but maybe I'll tell him I can go after all. That'll probably be my only excursion. I imagine I'll need all the time I can get just to think about this."

"Very well."

They both fell silent, and finally he nodded and walked away. Just as he reached her outer door, however, she rushed after him.

"Spock, wait!"

He paused, and she pulled his head down and kissed him, long and thoroughly. When she drew back, she could see his hopefulness that she might have already changed her mind. She searched his eyes, willing him to understand that she simply wasn't ready for this.

Finally, he looked away, and neither of them spoke again as he left. She stared at the door for a long moment, then wandered back to the bathroom and gazed in the mirror. Idly pushing a lock of gray hair away from her face, she thought about what he had said.

Time was a school, time was a fire...

Moments that had passed, gone forever. Years, burned to ashes. The lessons, hard lessons, of their past. She knew that she loved him and wanted him. She knew that they would be very happy together.

Why, then, couldn't she commit to forever with him?

End chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

Time is the Fire, chapter 2

Spock sat by the campfire and looked into the flames.

Time. Time is the fire.

The woods were very peaceful, but the serenity of their setting was lost on him. How could she have resisted his suggestion? After all they had been through recently... Did she not understand that it was right? He did. Perhaps he had been somewhat impetuous in his proposal-actually, he had been extremely impetuous in his proposal-but that did not undermine his sincerity. They belonged together. Parted, yet never parted. Never and always, touching and touched. Sharing the flame, a fire that would burn without end if only she would allow it.

McCoy's drunken grousing brought him back to the moment.

Waving a bottle in the air, the doctor scowled at Kirk. "Maybe it didn't cross that macho mind of yours, but you should have been killed when you fell off that mountain."

Kirk darted a glance at McCoy. "It crossed my mind."

"And?"

"And even as I fell, I knew I wouldn't die."

"Oh?" McCoy gestured at Spock. "I thought he was the only one who's immortal."

"Oh no, it isn't that. I knew I wouldn't die because the two of you were with me."

Spock looked up sharply at this, his full attention suddenly devoted to the conversation at hand. "I do not understand."

"I've always known I'll die alone," murmured Kirk.

"I'll call Valhalla and have them reserve a room for you." McCoy's attempt to interject humor into the conversation fell flat, and a moment later he shook his head. "It's a mystery to me what draws us together. All that time in space, getting on each other's nerves, then what do we do when shore leave comes along? We spend it together. Other people have families."

Kirk stared into the fire. "Other people, Bones. Not us."

_Not us._

Spock looked away.

_Other people have families._

But not us.

Wishing only to change the topic, Spock reached into his duffel and pulled out a canister. Although he had been in a hurry when packing this morning, he had performed a quick library search on "camping out." He had experienced a certain degree of foolishness when he packed the marshmelons, but now he was all too pleased that he had brought them.

As he hoped, both of the other men dropped the current conversation when they saw what he had, and soon they were involved in a much more comfortable discussion of the rituals of camping out.

...

Two food packs in her hand, Uhura left the transporter room and headed toward the bridge. The computer had said that Scotty was up there right now, and she shook her head as she pictured him deeply embroiled in some problem or another, without even a thought to the meal they'd planned together. She'd waited and waited for him down at the pub, actually waiting much longer than he deserved, but her annoyance had faded while she finished her second ale. Finally, she'd just ordered two take-out dinners and beamed back up to the ship.

For all his often inconsiderate behavior, Scotty really was a good friend. Unquestioning and undemanding, he was simply there, always ready to sit down and have a drink, always available when she needed cheering up. Although she couldn't have discussed her current quandary in a million years-Scotty had no idea about her involvement with Spock-it would have helped clear her mind just to sit down with him for a while. It was really too bad he'd gotten detained on the ship.

She stepped into the lift, picturing his expression when he realized that he'd forgotten all about her. He'd apologize but expect her to understand. After all, the ship had needed him more than she had. Then, she'd show him that she had brought supper and he would smile, his kind, grizzled face beaming appreciation for her simple act.

"Please state your destination."

Oops, she'd forgotten to tell the lift where she wanted to go. Maybe she shouldn't have had that second beer. Oh well, if anything important came up this evening, she'd take a detox pill. She wasn't exactly drunk. Just tipsy.

"Bridge."

She leaned back against the wall and thought some more about how happy Scotty would be to see her.

...

Spock stood on the shuttle behind Nyota as the Enterprise grew ever larger in the forward viewscreen. Their camping trip had been cut short, all personnel recalled in preparation for an unexpected mission, but no one knew any details yet. Their departure was so urgent that Nyota had actually been forced to bring a shuttle down to the surface; the transporters were nonfunctional and Kirk had not brought his communicator, so she had contacted them via the next available method. Behind him, McCoy and Kirk were reflective, caught in the spell of the ethereal sight before them. Spock, too, appreciated the elegant symmetry of their ship, but he found it difficult to focus his attention on anything other than the very real presence of the woman at the helm.

He had not slept well this night, there in the woods by the campfire. Although he was certain that Nyota would ultimately agree to bond with him, the slight prospect that she might not had left him highly restless and unsettled. Almost nineteen hours had passed since he had last spoken with her, and he could not resist craning his neck in an attempt to decipher her expression. She remained a closed book to him, however. He could not tell anything by studying her.

She brought their transport into the shuttle bay with ease, and they waited for the steps to be put in place. He hung back, hoping to catch her alone when the other men disembarked, but Kirk looked back expectantly and he was forced to follow.

They were met by Mr. Scott. "All I can say is they don't make them like they used to."

Kirk slung his pack over his shoulder as he prepared to address Scott, but Spock noticed that Nyota stood apart, so he did not wait to hear what Kirk had to say. He eased back next to her. "I would like to find a moment alone with you if possible," he murmured.

She smiled nervously, and he immediately knew that she had not reached a decision. "That would be nice, but we're going to be desperately busy for the next few days."

"Ah. So you do not have an answer for me yet."

"No. I'm sorry."

He nodded, and together they stepped into the turbolift with Kirk and McCoy.

...

Looking through his binoculars at Paradise City, Kirk remembered how he had used them to appreciate the scenery of Yosemite Park. That had been only two days ago, but it seemed like another lifetime that they had been happily sitting around the campfire, singing songs and toasting marshmallows. He still couldn't believe that Command would send the half-operational, half-manned Enterprise out to resolve a crucial situation, but here they were, in the middle of a desert trying to figure out how to rescue a Klingon, a Romulan, and a human from the maniacal Vulcan who had taken them hostage.

Next to him, Spock murmured, "At foot speed, I estimate the journey to Paradise City at one point two hours."

"We don't have one point two hours. Wait a minute." At the sound of a distant whinny, Kirk scanned the terrain and found a small encampment. Men. With horses. He lowered his binoculars to discover that Spock had seen it, too. "Perfect. But we'll have to get their attention."

"Captain? I know how to get their attention."

Kirk turned at the sound of Uhura's voice.

"How?" he asked.

"Think about it. A group of men, living out in the desert for who knows how long. No women, no pleasures." She slipped one arm out of her fatigues. "We need to lure them away from their camp."

"What exactly do you have in mind, Commander?"

She smiled mischievously and untucked her shirt. "What do you think they might want more than anything?"

Meeting Spock's eyes, Kirk was surprised to see his friend's furrowed brow. Obviously, Spock saw where she was going with this and didn't like it.

"Well," Kirk said hesitantly, "I know what I might want if I were in their situation, but-"

McCoy stepped forward and crossed his arms across his chest. "Don't tell me you're thinking of using yourself to lure them away, Uhura."

"No," said Spock. "She is not."

She turned to him. "Oh, yes I am. Why not?"

"It would be unseemly."

Kirk exchanged a quick glance with McCoy to see the doctor's wide-eyed expression, but Uhura and Spock ignored them.

She put her hands on her hips. "Unseemly? Why? Would it be unseemly if I were about twenty years younger?"

"Doctor? Let's go, er, reconnoiter." Kirk pointed across the dune to where the rest of the landing party waited. "Over there."

McCoy nodded quickly. "Yes, sir."

As they moved out of earshot, Kirk tried to ignore what had evidently escalated into a confrontation between his first officer and his communications officer. Spock and Uhura were nearly face-to-face, and although they kept it down, he could tell from Uhura's animation and Spock's utter stillness that they were exchanging heated words. Command had recently relaxed the guidelines concerning fraternization, but this scenario was exactly the sort of thing that could cause the fraternization rules to be tightened again. He met McCoy's eyes uneasily and saw a look of concern on the doctor's face, too.

The hushed voices fell silent, and he looked over to see Uhura heading in his direction, her sweater on her arm. She paused to pull off one boot, then the other. Behind her, Spock scowled, and Kirk swallowed at the darkness of his expression. While it might be stretching it to say that he was openly angry, he was definitely disapproving.

"Can someone get me a couple of those big palm fronds?" she asked.

Moving close to her, Kirk lowered his voice. "Let's talk for a moment, Commander. I can tell that Spock doesn't think you should do this."

"That's his problem, not mine."

"The point, however, is that he might be right. It's not exactly regulation, and I'm not convinced it's a good idea. To be honest, it's a little, er, bizarre."

"But it will work. I know it will."

He inhaled and glanced over at his friend, but finally nodded. "All right. No one can say that we don't take full advantage of all our resources. Carry on, Commander."

"Yes, sir."

Motioning to the landing party, he led them over to the highest dune, and they all inched their way up to the top. Spock had remained on the other side of the area, but when Kirk looked back over his shoulder, Spock grudgingly joined the rest of the group. He didn't speak as he positioned himself between Kirk and McCoy, and Kirk tried not to grin when he saw McCoy scoot over to give the tense Vulcan a little more room.

"Ready, Captain?"

Kirk looked up to see Uhura standing just on the other side of his men, holding the leaves demurely in front of her near-naked body. The moonlight glistened invitingly against her skin, and Kirk swallowed. Damn. If he were one of those men down below, he'd abandon everything at the chance to be near a sight like that.

He glanced back over at Spock and McCoy to see if they were ready. McCoy looked like his eyes might fall out of his head, but Spock... A small muscle worked in Spock's jaw, and Kirk hoped that the men below would surrender gracefully when confronted. He would hate to think what might happen if they didn't stop soon enough to suit him.

"Ready when you are, Commander," he said.

She nodded and stepped up to the top of the dune. Although her demeanor was entirely professional, an instant later she metamorphosed into an alluring siren, a seductive otherworldly apparition that would capture any man who happened to wander too close. This was a facet of her personality Kirk had never seen before, and he couldn't help but wonder if this was the woman Spock knew when behind closed doors. If so, he was one lucky son of a bitch.

Although Kirk couldn't see what was happening below, he knew that the men had reacted quickly to the sound of her beautiful voice. He could hear their excited shouts and the clatter they made as they scrambled up the side of the dune. Evidently possessing nerves of steel, Uhura didn't hesitate in her exotic dance, even though the men appeared to be nearing at an alarming pace.

Kirk coiled his muscles, ready to pounce, and sensed Spock next to him doing the same. An instant later, Uhura muttered, "Now."

Springing out, he trained his weapon on the nearest body.

"Hello, boys," Uhura purred. "I've always wanted to play to a captive audience."

He grinned at her audacity, and he turned toward Spock for confirmation. What he found, though, was that the glowering Vulcan had pressed his weapon directly to the forehead of the man nearest him and looked as if he were only a millimeter away from murder. Kirk quickly stepped forward, directing his men to round up the prisoners and escort them back down to the camp.

...

Groaning, Uhura rolled her head against cool metal and tried to understand what had happened. This was... a shuttle. Yes, she was on a shuttle, but why was it so dark? And why did she hear the hiss of escaping steam and the crackle of exposed circuits? Was she back in the center of Paradise City, humiliated because she hadn't been able to abort her rendezvous? She'd tried to regain altitude when she saw that the situation on the ground was not under control, but a disorganized band of ragtag zealots had swarmed over the shuttle like insects and borne it to the ground, then forced the hatch and taken control by force.

No, that part was over... She remembered now. After the rebels had captured the shuttle, they had wrested her from her seat and taken her to meet the Vulcan who commanded these hordes... Sybok. Yes. Spock had called him Sybok. Sybok's tightly wound energy marked him as a man possessed, but his charisma was unmistakable. As she had been forced off the captured shuttle, Spock had emerged from the crowd, his face haunted. He had spoken with Sybok, trying to persuade the other Vulcan to give up, but Sybok had laughed and...

Yes.

All the cobwebs suddenly cleared from her mind when she remembered what had happened next. Sybok had laughed and commandeered the shuttle, claiming that he was going to steal the Enterprise. Her head still on the console so she could feign weakness, she peeked out from under her forearm. Jumbled bodies were everywhere-there was Sulu, tangled up with the Romulan woman-and her heart skipped a beat when she saw Spock lying against the side of the shuttle, his arm twisted at an unnatural angle.

One of the men from Nimbus Three staggered to his feet. She gathered herself with the intent to overpower him, but before she could move, Spock stirred and opened his eyes. Instantly alert, he looked toward the back of the shuttle, his attention evidently caught by something she couldn't hear. The settler from Nimbus Three saw that Spock was awake and moved toward him, but Spock was too quick. Jumping to his feet, he felled the man with a quick chop to the side of his neck and rushed from the shuttle.

She took advantage of the activity to leap from her seat and dive for a gun, but the sensation of cold metal against her temple made her freeze just as her fingers reached the weapon. She looked up to see the human ambassador studying her with an apologetic smile on his face.

"I'm sorry, my dear. I can't let you do that."

She cursed under her breath, and the next moment the ambassador dragged Sulu out of the pilot's seat. Sulu swayed and probably would have fallen if she hadn't grabbed his arm.

"Are you all right, Hikaru?" she muttered.

He nodded shakily. "Yes. You?"

"I'm fine."

The ambassador prodded her in the ribs, but when she didn't move, she felt her elbow grasped roughly, and she was shoved forward. She darted a glance over her shoulder to see that the Klingon and Romulan ambassadors had joined them. Still stiff and sore from the crash, she stumbled out the back of the shuttle just in time to catch a glimpse of Spock, Kirk, and McCoy being escorted away at the end of a weapon. She sagged, and it felt like rocks had suddenly materialized in her stomach. Could this madman actually accomplish his goal and take command of the Enterprise?

Korrd pushed her forward. "These two will be useful."

She looked up to realize that the crazed Vulcan was walking in her direction. She straightened and met his eyes. This person obviously knew Spock and had even been glad to see him, but had betrayed him without a second thought. She glared at him, taking strength in her anger.

Instead of reacting with anger himself, however, he looked at her with... compassion? Love, even?

He nodded at Korrd. "Give us a moment alone."

What was this?

The Romulan ambassador smiled. "Don't be afraid."

Uhura watched the others walk away, then turned back to Sybok, hearing only Sulu's heavy breathing in the sudden silence that filled the shuttle deck.

"You are filled with pain," said Sybok in a voice as rich as coffee.

She frowned as he stepped closer. His eyes were dark, so very dark, and she found that she couldn't look away. His beatific smile sent a shiver down the length of her spine, but an instant later she was swept away, taken back to a time and place she thought she had left behind forever.

A weak, wavering voice cried, "Help me. Help me, please."

She whirled around to see the frail old woman lying curled on the floor. The woman's voice was so quiet, stretched thin with pain, and Uhura realized for the first time in her life that what she had thought were agonized wails were actually small whimpers. To a child's ears, they had been deafening, but in reality they were barely audible.

She knelt and took the old woman's gnarled, bony hand in her own. "Bibi?"

Tears streaked the old woman's cheeks. "Who are you? Why won't you help me?"

"Bibi, it's Nyota. I'm here."

A horrible smell filled the air, and Uhura knew that her beloved, once-strong grandmother had lost control of her bodily functions.

"Help me, please help me," the old woman said pitifully. "Why won't you help me?"

Uhura tried to tell herself that this wasn't real, that she was no longer a little girl, but somehow the years faded away. Tears springing to her eyes, she said, "Bibi, I'm Nyota. Don't you know me? Don't you still love me?"

"Help me, help me."

"What is it, Bibi? Please, will you come outside and play with me? I want to run in the garden. Please Bibi, please."

Her eyes squeezed shut, the old woman began to blubber. "You're the devil, and you've been sent to torment me. Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone! You're going to pick all my flowers, all the pretty flowers my mommy planted. Why? Why? You're a bad girl. Go away! Go away and leave me alone!"

Hardly able to speak now for her own crying, the little girl leaned close, pressing her face to her grandmother's beautiful silver hair. Her grandmother had always smelled like wild roses, but now she only smelled bad. Nyota closed her eyes, wanting her grandmother to sit up and say that she was only playing, but no matter how hard she wished, it didn't happen.

The room grew suddenly quiet, and Nyota sat up to see that her bibi's beautiful brown eyes had grown fixed and ugly, staring at the far wall while her lips continued to work soundlessly. Nyota clutched her grandmother's arm and shook as hard as she could, but it didn't make any difference. Suddenly afraid of this woman she had always loved and trusted, Nyota scrambled away, slipping on the hardwood floor until she was backed against the wall, her throat suddenly sore from the horrified screams that just wouldn't stop.

They wouldn't stop, they wouldn't stop-

"Release your pain!"

Uhura tried to move away and realized that someone held her arm. "I was scared! I was so scared!" she cried.

"Yes," the commanding voice intoned. "You went for a fun day with your grandmother, but instead she had a stroke. No one knew that it would happen. No one saw it coming. You were left alone with her for hours."

"But I loved her! I wanted to help her!"

"Yes! You did, but you were only four years old. What could a four-year-old do?"

"I never wanted to be near her again. My mother would try to take me to visit her, but I would scream and cry. My grandfather cared for her as he would a baby for twenty years after that, but I never wanted to set foot in that house again."

"You didn't understand. You were a child! Release your pain. Release it!"

Uhura crumpled and turned toward him, leaning on his arm while she sobbed. Somewhere in her agony, however, the thought began to materialize that he was right. She had only been a child, and like a child had not understood that the babbling, drooling creature on the floor that day was merely a sick old woman. The grandmother Uhura loved had left, replaced by a helpless, childlike being that only deserved her compassion, not her fear.

She raised her head, truly seeing Sybok for the first time. He wasn't bad. He was good. He only wished to seek the truth. He only wished to help. He was... a messiah.

She smiled, and her heart soared when she saw Sybok smile back at her.

"Will you help me?" he asked intensely.

"Yes." Relief and love overflowed from her very being. "Oh, yes. Anything."

Sybok nodded, then turned to Sulu.

"You carry great pain..."

End chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

Time is the Fire, chapter 3

His elbows on his knees, Spock sat on the bunk and watched Kirk pace. The captain would walk to the front of the brig and peer through the forcefield, then stalk to the back and run his fingers over the panels. Then, he'd work his way along the side until he had reached the front, and start the entire process all over again. McCoy, on the other hand, sat on the other bunk and never ceased complaining, his voice going on and on as he filled the air with his pithy observations...

Spock interlaced his fingers, clutching his hands together so tightly they began to ache. Perhaps that was desirable, however, for he could concentrate on the pain and shut out everything else.

Sybok...

After so many years, Spock had come face-to-face with his brother, the brother who had been dead to him since he was a child. He had loved Sybok with the open intensity only a child could feel, and when Sybok had been sent away, Spock's undisciplined mind had wondered if maybe it was actually his, Spock's, fault. After all, Sarek had told him time and time again that one should respect one's elder sibling. Outright adoration, however, was not allowed. And as Sybok's beliefs had deviated more and more from the accepted norm, the conflict between Sarek and Sybok had grown. Spock had been caught in the middle, a child forced to choose between his father and the brother who had magically swept into his lonely life. Sarek and Sybok had clashed, their arguments loud and undisguised, until the day had finally come when Sarek banished Sybok forever.

Sarek had been satisfied that Sybok's unhealthy influence was vanquished from their household and that Spock's training would continue unaffected. It was ironic, therefore, that Spock had actually learned something even Sarek could not foresee, for when the time came for Spock's own rebellion, he did not do it openly as he had witnessed with his brother. No, he did it calmly and logically, and in the end Sarek had been helpless to resist his will.

Kirk swept past, so close that the breeze ruffled Spock's hair, and McCoy raised his voice a notch.

Closing his eyes in an attempt to calm himself, Spock thought of Nyota. Why did she not say yes? He longed to bond with her, the need so tangible that it was a physical pain. He had been parted from her for so many years. What would he do if he were to be parted from her again? Her warm smile, her musical laugh... Her lush body and her passionate ways...

Abruptly aware of an unwanted physical response to these thoughts, he shifted uncomfortably. His reaction was entirely inappropriate. How could he allow himself to become aroused here in the brig, under such circumstances? Matters were much too critical to indulge his random musings. Perhaps he _should_ watch Kirk pace.

When he looked up, the captain scowled at him, obviously still angry. Spock sighed. Kirk could hardly be blamed, for Spock had betrayed him. The fact that Sybok was Spock's brother might explain his defiance earlier, but it did not excuse it. Spock looked down again, unable to bear the accusation in Kirk's eyes.

"Spock."

He looked up to find Kirk standing directly before him. "Yes, Captain," he said listlessly.

"If we're going to be stuck in this brig together, we might as well try to accomplish something."

Spock stood warily. Was this forgiveness or a further punishment? Kirk's words had been ambiguous, and he could not tell if his friend was still angry.

Motioning him over to the center of the brig, Kirk looked up. "I want to get into the ceiling. Help me up."

Spock nodded, pleased to be able to offer his assistance. He knew for a fact that Kirk's efforts would be useless-Spock, himself, had been the one to test the new brig-but that was beside the point. Perhaps it was illogical to waste one's energy on a futile effort, but he would do whatever it took to prove that he was Kirk's ally again, and he would do it gladly.

...

Uhura hurried toward sickbay. Poor Scotty! Nurse Estes had said that it was only a concussion and he should be fine, but Uhura thought that someone should be with him when he woke. After all, Sybok had not yet explained things to him, and he might be confused. He would need someone who understood to help him until he understood, too.

Despite her concern over her old friend's health, she walked with a light step. The universe was wondrous, full of mysteries just ready to be explored. Sybok, in his infinite wisdom, had taken them by the hand to lead them to a new, amazing place. She smiled and shook her head, remembering how she had resisted him before, how she had mistrusted him and been suspicious of his intentions. He had opened her eyes, and although she had once been blind, she now could see.

She frowned, the tiniest feeling of guilt creeping into the back of her mind. Supposedly, Captain Kirk, Spock, and Dr. McCoy had all escaped from the brig and were at large someplace on the ship. They didn't want to help Sybok and probably didn't approve of the fact that she was helping him. She pushed away the guilt, however, thinking of Sybok's glorious intentions. How could anyone refuse to help such a man? The captain, Spock, and Dr. McCoy obviously just didn't understand. She had noticed that Sybok was particularly disappointed in Spock. Poor Spock-he was woefully misled by his preconceived beliefs.

The sickbay door opened before her, and she hurried over to sit on the side of Scotty's bed. He was still out cold, and she felt her heart swell with love as she studied his dear, lined face. Reaching up to smooth his hair, she smiled when she noticed how gray he had become. Her kind friend, her old companion-a man who never wanted anything more from her than a gentle smile or a kind word.

The med tech held a small instrument over Scotty's head, and a moment later, he stirred. She patted him on the arm to reassure him.

"Easy, Scotty, easy. You're back with us."

"I had the strangest dream, Uhura," he mumbled. "I dreamt that a madman had taken over the Enterprise."

"Scotty, dear. He's not a madman."

"He's not?"

Suddenly, she felt safe. Gazing into his benevolent eyes, she knew that he had always cared for her-maybe even loved her-and she was nearly overcome with the warm emotions that surged through her entire body, seeming to course through her veins as naturally as blood. This fun-loving, intelligent man... fallible and all too human, growing gray with his years of wisdom and experience, watching his years of service slowly wind to a close... He meant so much to her, and before she had even given it a second thought, she decided that he could mean so much more.

Brushing her fingers against his cheek, she said, "Sybok has simply put us in touch with feelings that we've always been afraid to express."

"I have to get back to the transporter."

He tried to sit up, but she pushed him back down on the bed. "No, no, Scotty. Scotty, there's so much I want to tell you."

"Maybe you could wait until I'm a wee bit stronger. I don't think I could take it in my present condition." He touched her face, his rough, callused fingers gentle as he caressed her flesh. "Or yours."

She smoothed his wiry gray hair, and then drew back and allowed him to stand. He hurried toward the door, but he turned and met her eyes briefly one last time before leaving. She smiled with understanding. Of course his duty must always come first, and that was all right. She wouldn't expect anything less from a dedicated man like Scotty.

Oh, how could she not have known?

She loved Scotty, and she wanted nothing more than to explore these wonderful new emotions. It was time to leave, however. She had been gone too long, and Sybok might need her.

...

Hoping he could make it to the bridge before their unknown assailant fired again, Spock ran from the transporter room. Injured crewmen littered the corridors, but he could not stop to assist them. If he did not reach the bridge soon, their injuries would be moot.

So much had happened in such a short time. What would happen next? They had reached Sha Ka Ree, the mystical, mythical destination toward which Sybok had yearned his entire life. Spock had even begun to think that perhaps Sybok was right, that Sha Ka Ree really did exist, but it was all too evident now that Sybok had been wrong. His brother had brainwashed the hostages, destroyed a shuttlecraft, hijacked a starship, and endangered everyone's lives... all for an illusion. A deceit, a fallacy. In the end, Sybok had rushed into a fiery hell, attempting to save Spock and all Spock held dear, but his sacrifice might very well be in vain if Spock, himself, could not find a way to extricate them from this nightmare.

He entered the lift, McCoy at his elbow.

"Bridge."

It was difficult to believe. Had he had truly witnessed Sybok's death? His brother, gone for so long-gone for all eternity, now? And what was happening to Kirk? The captain was stranded on the planet, left behind when Spock and McCoy beamed up. The malevolent entity into whose hands Sybok had delivered them was bloodthirsty and enraged at having been denied its opportunity for escape. Kirk must be rescued from the planet soon, but first Spock had to determine who had fired on them and why.

McCoy dogged his heels as he stepped onto the bridge. "What about Jim? We can't just leave him down there."

The air was filled with smoke, and Spock's eyes watered as he walked to the center of the bridge. "Please get a grip on yourself, Doctor. Status report."

Uhura spoke over the surrounding mayhem. "Klingon captain wishes to name his terms, Mr. Spock."

_Nyota._ His respiration quickened at the sound of her voice, but he wrenched himself back to the task at hand.

He curled his fingers into a fist. "On screen."

His mind raced while he listened to the Klingon commander's brash threats. Fascinating. The Klingons claimed not to care about the Enterprise. Raising his chin as the young man demanded he turn over Captain Kirk, he considered how this information changed the parameters of their situation.

He pretended to cooperate. "Captain Kirk is not among us."

"You lie."

"I am a Vulcan. I am incapable of lying. Captain Kirk is on the planet below."

"Then give me his coordinates!"

Spock paused. Obviously, the young commander was not acting on official orders, for the Klingons would never dare target a specific member of Starfleet. Therefore, either the Klingon commander was acting on covert orders, or he was working without orders at all. If Spock could learn which of those was the case, he could then determine a course of action.

He looked over at Korrd, who stood at the side of the bridge. Although the ambassador had evidently fallen out of favor, there was no denying that his career had been extraordinary. As Kirk had said just days ago, Korrd's exploits were required reading at the Academy. If Starfleet cadets held Korrd in near-reverent regard, what would a young, ambitious Klingon think of him?

Moving close to Korrd, Spock lowered his voice. "I am in need of your assistance."

"My assistance."

"You are his superior officer."

"I am a foolish old man," Korrd said bitterly.

Suddenly, Spock felt his barely held control dissipate, crackling as if caught in flames, blown away as easily as ashes in the wind. Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong, and their one chance at survival hinged on this pitiful old man and his indulgent self-contempt.

Refusing to allow the weakness of another to thwart him, Spock hissed, "Damn you, sir. You will try."

Korrd took a step back at the open fury on Spock's face, but finally nodded and squared his shoulders. Watching him move to the center of the bridge, Spock worked his fist, still uncertain that he had secured Korrd's cooperation.

Just as the old Klingon began to speak, a medical scanner whirred softly. Spock spun to find that McCoy stood behind him, an expression of appraisal on his face.

His voice steely, he said, "This is neither the time nor the place, McCoy."

"You took a pretty bad blow down on that planet, and it just occurred to me that I never checked you out."

"I am needed elsewhere."

Spock tried to walk away, but McCoy grabbed his arm. "Wait just a damn minute."

Turning slowly, Spock stared at the fingers that dared touch his body. "Release me."

"Spock."

"If you know what is good for you, Doctor, you will release me."

McCoy glared at him for a moment, but finally let go. "Do I need to remove you from duty?"

Closing his eyes, Spock whispered, "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Spock fixed his gaze on a point in the distance. "As you have noticed, I am able to function. I merely allowed myself to grow... distressed. The moment has passed."

McCoy did not reply at first, but finally he exhaled. "All right. But I'm keeping an eye on you."

"I understand." Spock nodded, grateful that McCoy had evidently decided to drop the matter, at least temporarily.

Returning his attention to the discussion between Korrd and the Klingon commander, Spock clasped his hands behind his back and stood tall. He must make every effort to appear calm, even if he did not actually feel that way inside.

End chapter 3


	4. Chapter 4

Time is the Fire, chapter 4

Unable to stop grinning, Scotty stood by the buffet table and looked around at their guests. All was well. Mr. Spock had saved the captain, the ship was no longer possessed by that madman Sybok, and he himself was surrounded by Klingons aboard the Enterprise as friends! He never thought that he would see the day. And standing next to another unexpected guest-a Romulan woman-was the biggest surprise of all.

Nyota.

His smile softened as he studied her unnoticed. It was hard for him to believe, but she found him attractive. She had feelings for him. If he hadn't heard it with his own ears, he would not have believed it. He scarcely believed it as it was. In the hours since her amazing declaration, he had replayed her words over and over, felt her gentle touch in his imagination, and convinced himself that her feelings were real.

Incredible.

He and she had been friends for a long time, but it had never occurred to him that they might be more to one another someday. Not that she wasn't a fine woman. Why, she was always willing to knock back a drink or two, and could put most anyone under the table. She didn't pry. She didn't try to change him into something he wasn't. And she never, ever questioned his priorities. Most women wanted all his attention for themselves and actually became jealous of the Enterprise, but not Nyota. She knew that the Enterprise always came first. She understood.

He looked over to see Korrd standing next to him, scowling at an empty glass. Chuckling, he moved close, warmed by an unexpected surge of affection for the old Klingon. Of course, he felt pretty fond of everyone at this moment, and the thought of his silly, almost youthful giddiness made him smile even wider.

"Would ye care for a wee nip of Scotch whiskey?" he asked jovially.

Korrd's response was hardly more than a grunt, but Scotty filled the other man's glass anyway. Glancing up, he saw Uhura crossing the room in his direction. Och, what a fine woman. It would be so easy to fall in love with her.

He leaned close as she passed. "I never thought I'd ever be drinking with a Klingon," he said conspiratorially.

She smiled but continued on her way without speaking, evidently intent on conversing with Chekov and Sulu. He watched her walk away, shaking his head fondly.

Yes, she was a fine woman. Already he felt certain stirrings deep inside, thinking about what might await the two of them in the future.

Who would ever have thought it?

...

Uhura sat listlessly on the edge of her bed and looked at the two pills in her hand. She had begun coming down from her euphoric state during the reception earlier this evening, and now she felt like she had the worst hangover anyone could imagine. Maybe these painkillers would take care of it. If not, she would just suffer it out, because she couldn't bear to face Dr. McCoy after the foolish way she had acted earlier.

How could she have thought helping Sybok steal the Enterprise was the right thing to do? Thank heavens Spock had retained enough presence of mind to talk the Klingons into not only calling off their attack but helping to save Captain Kirk.

And how could she have thought...

She shuddered, remembering how she'd acted in sickbay. Sure, Scotty was an attractive enough guy in a burly sort of way, but to come on to him, to actually try to seduce him... What had she been thinking?

Poor Scotty had tried to approach her several times at the reception, wanting to talk about the novelty of drinking with Klingons, wanting to smile at her and be near her, but she'd managed to shake him each time. Eventually she'd have to set things straight with him, but tonight it was more than she could handle. She'd actually wanted to avoid the reception altogether, but Captain Kirk had made her attend. Even though he assured her that he knew she'd acted under the influence of outside forces, she knew that it was a punishment of sorts. She'd had to smile and act genteel, all the while knowing that the celebratory mood of the reception was due to nothing she had done. As a matter of fact, it was happening in spite of what she'd done.

To make it even worse, she'd had to watch Spock stand over by the observation window all night, his demeanor dark and moody. She had known she should approach him, but she'd ended up avoiding him, too. She just felt too icky to even look in his eyes. Too guilty. Guilty over letting Sybok brainwash her, guilty over making a pass at Scotty, guilty over the fact that her brain had been so fogged she hadn't even considered his proposal since this whole mess started.

She popped the two pills into her mouth, then picked up a glass of water from her nightstand and grimaced when she quickly washed them down. Before they had even settled in her stomach, a signal from her door told her she had a visitor. Damn. This couldn't be good, no matter who it was.

Rubbing her forehead, she walked toward the front. "Come."

The door opened to reveal Spock, and her eyes widened at the look on his face. Intense and severe, he immediately met her eyes and didn't look away, just watching her without speaking or even moving.

She frowned. "Do you want to come in, or are you just going to stand there?"

He didn't respond at first, just continuing to stare, but finally he moved toward her. He didn't stop until he was just centimeters away.

"Nyota," he breathed.

"I... I'm sorry about the way I acted with Sybok. He did something to my mind, and I didn't have a will of my own."

"I do not wish to discuss that. When will you bond with me?"

She paused, confused by the sudden change in subject. "Uh, I'm sorry, but I couldn't even think about it while my mind was such a mess. That's part of what I was just going to tell you..."

Her voice trailed away when he lifted his hand toward her face. More than anything, she wanted to feel his reassuring arms around her, she wanted to know that no matter what she'd done, he still cared, but her guilt was too fresh. She could hardly even face him-how could she let him touch her? She backed out of his reach and turned away.

"I have a terrible headache, Spock."

He was silent so long that she finally looked back. "Do you wish for me to leave?" he asked tightly.

"No! No, please stay. Let's just have a quiet evening together. It's late and all I want to do is sleep, so why don't you come on back and we'll get ready for bed?"

He hesitated, and she thought he might leave anyway. Finally, though, he nodded and started back toward her bedroom. She tagged along behind him.

Knowing that she should just let it drop, she said, "It was so strange, what Sybok did to my head. He told me that he felt my pain, and that he could release-"

"I know what Sybok was capable of doing."

"Well, that's why I acted like I did. I should be court-martialed! Even though Captain Kirk is being so understanding, I feel awful."

Spock faced her and inhaled deeply. "Nyota, I have had a very difficult day. I betrayed Captain Kirk, I was physically assaulted by an alien entity, and I watched someone important to me die. I am sore. I am tired. I am still covered with a layer of dust from that planet. And I do not wish to discuss your feelings of guilt at the moment. Can you understand that?"

She nodded, dumb.

"I am going to take a shower."

Already shrugging out of his jacket, he reached into her dresser drawer and roughly pulled out his pajama pants, then stalked into the fresher. A moment later, she heard the water come on, and she finally shook herself out of her mental paralysis at his outburst. Maybe she had selfishly assumed that she was the only person who had problems right now, but what was that all about? Sybok had been important to him? She'd assumed that Sybok was just an old acquaintance, but maybe they had been close friends or something. Shaking her head, she started undressing.

Just as she slipped her nightgown over her head, she heard another signal from her door. Well, damn again. Who could it be this time? She quickly pulled on a robe, belting it as she walked toward the bathroom. She stuck her head in, intending to tell Spock that someone was at her door, but he stood with his eyes closed and his face in the water. Deciding not to bother him, she backed out of the bathroom and shut the door behind her. She'd get rid of this person quickly.

She walked out into her main living area. "Come."

The door slid open, and Scotty stepped into the room.

"Uh, Scotty. Hi."

"Hello, lass. I hope ye don't mind, but I really need to speak with you."

He moved closer, and she backed away. "Actually, Scotty, this is a really bad time. I was just getting ready for bed, and-"

"Nyota, this is important."

"Can't we talk tomorrow? I feel awful, I mean really awful. I have such a splitting headache that I can't even think straight."

"A minute. That's all I need."

She was quiet for a long moment but finally nodded.

"Ah, lass." He smiled tenderly and brushed her hair away from her forehead. "What ye said today... I just had to let ye know that I could not believe my ears. I have always thought that you were an exceptional woman, but I never thought there could be more between us."

She closed her eyes. "About that, Scotty-"

Suddenly, Scotty made a small, choked sound, and she opened her eyes to see him staring at something behind her. She whirled, and saw...

Spock.

Standing just outside her bedroom door, he obviously hadn't expected to find anyone else here. The old, faded pajama pants hung low on his hips, and the hair on his head and chest still glistened from the shower. He blinked and swallowed, and looked for all the universe like a wild animal caught in a bright light.

Scotty reacted first. "What is this?"

Spock took a step back. "Excuse me. I did not mean to interrupt."

Scotty angrily turned toward Uhura. "Ye said that ye cared about me. Ye touched me as if ye loved me today. Was it all for naught?"

She darted a glance at Spock and saw his expression harden as understanding dawned.

"I'm sorry, Scotty." She wrung her hands together. "I shouldn't have said that, I-"

Scotty gestured wildly. "I would not warm your bed, so ye found someone who would?"

"That is enough, Mr. Scott," said Spock, his voice flinty.

Scotty took a step closer to Spock. "Did ye take advantage of her, Mr. Spock? She was vulnerable today. I saw that myself. She needed someone, and I said nae."

"Scotty, please," she pleaded.

Spock straightened. "I believe that I should leave."

He walked back into the bedroom without another word. Uhura called out his name, but he didn't react, and before she could follow him, Scotty grabbed her arm.

"I dinna understand, Nyota. Why is Spock here? Spock! Near naked, too!"

She pushed his hand away from her arm. "I'm sorry Scotty. I have to talk to Spock before he leaves. Can you wait right here, just for a moment?"

"What about me? Do ye care for me or do ye not?"

"Of course I do, but not in the way you think."

"Then tell me what is happening! Don't I deserve an explanation?"

"Yes, but-"

Spock strode from her bedroom, back in uniform. She couldn't believe that he had dressed so quickly, but he must have just thrown his uniform on over the pajamas.

She stepped toward him. "Please Spock, wait."

Without even meeting her eyes, he brushed past her and left. She stared at the door as it closed behind him, then covered her face with her hands. Her head pounding, she tried to hold herself together. How could she have allowed things to get into such a mess? She had to straighten this out right now.

She faced Scotty. "Scotty, I'm sorry about what I said. I do care about you, but only as a friend. Spock and I are lovers. This is not casual, and nothing new."

Scotty sagged, clearly struggling to accept this new information. "But then why? Why did ye say that to me?"

"It was a terrible mistake. Spock and I have been dealing with some issues recently, and when I saw you in sickbay, I just felt comfortable all of a sudden. Safe. Sybok might as well have drugged me, for all the self-control and mental clarity I had. Being with you seemed so easy, but we both know that life isn't always easy. I love Spock. I've loved him for over ten years, Scotty, and I'll never love another man like I love him." Her voice faltered. "I can't believe that I ruined everything, all over a few minutes of foolishness."

Scotty sighed, then patted her on the shoulder. "Och, lass. I don't think ye've ruined anything. You should go after him. Tell him what you just told me. He'll understand."

Uhura gazed up at Scotty's eyes, almost overwhelmed by his compassion. "Thank you, Scotty. I do love you, just not that way. You're one of the best friends I've ever had."

"And you're mine, lass. I thought there might be something else between us, but I see now that there wasn't. And there won't ever be." Disappointment was obvious in his voice.

"No, there won't. I'm sorry." Slowly taking his hand, she said, "Can you forgive me?"

"Of course." He squeezed her fingers, then pulled away and started toward the door. "It's time for me to leave. Ye need to go to Mr. Spock."

"Thank you, Scotty, for being so understanding.

Smiling sadly, he nodded. She watched him walk out of her quarters, and then she ran back to her room to get dressed.

...

The stars glittered, mocking him with their distant beauty as he stood in the darkened observation lounge and gazed out the window. He had desperately wanted to bond with Nyota, but was it not to be? He had trusted her, and she had betrayed him. He had trusted Sybok once, too, and Sybok had left and never returned. If not for Sybok's crimes, he never would have seen his brother again. If not for Sybok's crimes, he never would have known of Nyota's feelings for Mr. Scott. He had trusted both of them, but the passage of time had left him alone, once again.

Time... Time was his school. Would he now burn in its fire?

Closing his eyes, he leaned his forehead against the cold, hard clearsteel and relived the exact moment when he had understood why Scott was in Nyota's quarters. The shock had been so great that he had not been able to breathe at first. A tiny thrill of panic had rippled through the back of his mind as he thought he might simply suffocate, but finally he had filled his lungs and forced himself to leave.

Mr. Scott did not know how fortunate he had been.

He clenched his hands. What would he do now?

He quickly straightened at the sound of the door. Quiet footsteps approached, but he did not turn. Her scent filled his nostrils, and he forced himself not to react, to stand calmly. She was directly next to him, but he clasped his hands and continued to gaze out the viewport.

Not trusting himself to speak of the scene in her quarters, he murmured, "Sybok was my brother."

"Oh, God. I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"He was outcast, dead to all Vulcan. Dead to me. He left when I was a child." Spock studied the stars before him. "His beliefs branded him untouchable, but to me, he was simply my brother."

"Did you know what had become of him?"

"No. He left Vulcan with no explanation of where he would go or what he would do. He did not even say goodbye to anyone but me."

"He must have loved you very much."

"Yes." Spock nodded. "He did. On the day he left, he told me that he would never truly leave me, that he would always be with me. Never and always... Never and always. I heard nothing more of him until I saw him on Nimbus Three. And now he is dead. Never to touch anyone again, always silenced."

They both stood without speaking for a long moment. He was all too aware of her presence by his side, and he wondered why she remained. It was possible that she wanted to comfort him, but did she not know that she tormented him? Unable to bear it another moment, he asked, "Do you wish to be free to pursue others?"

She made a small sobbing sound, and he finally turned to see that tears ran down her cheeks. Her eyes were closed, and she made no attempt to wipe the tears away.

"No," she said in a choked voice. "I want to be with you."

"Then why did you approach Mr. Scott? If you wish to be with me, then be with me. I cannot share you."

"Oh, Spock. I don't want you to share me. What I did was really, really stupid, and I won't blame you if you never forgive me. Something just came over me earlier while I was sitting with Scotty in sickbay. I can blame it on my mental state, but it was more than that."

"I am listening."

"It's just that... Well, I looked at Scotty's worn face and his gray hair, and suddenly I felt safe. Unthreatened."

Incredulous, he said, "I threaten you?"

"No! Not really. Well, not you, anyway." She shook her head, obviously struggling for words. "At first, when I thought about growing old with you, I was so excited. To be with you every day for the rest of my life, to know that we'd always be together-it would be wonderful. But then I realized that even though I would grow old with you, you wouldn't grow old with me."

He frowned. Certainly, he had not expected this. "Why have you never mentioned your concerns before? Has this bothered you for ten years?"

"Oh no, it didn't bother me at all, before. Then, I was young and immortal. Not anymore. Now, I look into my mirror, and I see my mother." She laughed bitterly and shook her head. "I hadn't even figured it out at the time, but I think that's why I insisted on doing that dance on Nimbus Three-to prove I was still desirable. You were right to tell me that I would make a fool out of myself."

"It did not enter my mind that you might make a fool out of yourself."

She turned her face away. "The point is that someday, in the not so distant future, you'll still be youthful and you'll be stuck with an old woman."

"That does not matter. I will not care for you any less."

"It matters to me. You'll have to watch me grow old, maybe even care for me someday."

"You speak as if that is an undesirable outcome."

"Well, isn't it?"

"Not at all. I want to watch you grow old. I want to be the one to care for you if you ever require it. At any rate, look at me. Can you not see that I have wrinkles on my face? That my body is less fit than it once was? Perhaps it is due to my human heritage, or perhaps it is a result of my regeneration, but I am not youthful. In the natural order of things, yes, it is likely that I will survive you. While that thought fills me with sorrow, I will not discard what we have now for fear of what might be." Placing his fingertips under her chin, he gently turned her face up to his. "Life is too short, Nyota."

A tiny smile curved her lips for the first time. "It surprises me to hear you say that. You might have another one hundred and fifty years."

"I could have ten times that, and it still would not be enough to make up for the years we have lost."

"You really don't care that my hair will turn grayer and grayer? That my body will sag, and my face will be covered with wrinkles?"

"No."

"You don't care that someday people might look at us and wonder what a young man like you sees in an old woman like me?"

"That will never happen."

Her voice dropped to a whisper. "You don't care that someday I might be infirm, and you'll have to care for me like you would an infant?"

"If that time ever comes, I will do whatever is needed."

She gazed up into his eyes, her expression soft in the low light. Neither of them spoke for a long moment, and he could see the reflection of the stars in her eyes. Finally, she said, "Yes, Spock. I would be the happiest woman in the universe if I became your wife."

His shoulders slumping with relief, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, he saw the luminous smile on her face. He knew that this was the appropriate moment for a ritual embrace, but when he held up his hand, his fingers were shaking so much he could not form it.

Her smile vanishing, she moved closer and took his hand in both of her own. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

"No." He tightened his fingers on her hand. "Not anymore."

"Then what-"

"I have not told you why I did not want you to dance in the desert. I was jealous. Insanely jealous. Even now, I remember how those men ran up the hill to claim you, and the blood rushes through my ears. When Mr. Scott came to your quarters earlier, I wanted to kill him. My vision clouded, and I had to leave before I harmed him." His breath had begun to come in short, ragged pants, and when he spoke again, his voice was so hoarse it hurt to speak. "I burn, Nyota. My eyes are flame. My heart, flame."

Her eyes widened at his words, and at first he thought she was afraid. As he studied her, however, his heart began to beat faster with the realization of what he saw in her expression. Instead of fear, he saw excitement. Instead of trepidation, he saw arousal. "Pon farr," she said.

"Yes." The blood coursed through his veins like molten fire, burning his eyes, filling his loins. His jaw had begun to ache from the pressure of his clenched teeth, and he knew that he had only moments of sanity left. He had held off the fever for days, but now, knowing she soon would be his, he could no longer fight it. "I need you. I need to join with you. I need to fill your body with my own. I ache to fill your mind with my own. Submit to me, Nyota."

"Yes, anything." Her voice husky, she repeated, "Anything."

Unable to restrain himself a moment longer, he pulled her into his arms and smashed his mouth to hers with such force that he tasted her blood, salty and metallic. Her body was lush and he longed to touch her everywhere, his hands roving wildly from her face, to her breasts, to her crotch. She pressed herself against him, grinding with such abandon that he wanted to rip her clothing from her body and take her here. When he wrapped his hands around her head in search of mental contact, however, the small portion of his mind that was still rational told him that once he did that, they would be lost.

"We must go to my quarters," he gasped. "Quickly."

Although it was one of the most difficult things he had ever done in his life, he pulled away, and together they rushed from the observation deck.

End chapter 4


	5. Chapter 5

Time is the Fire, chapter 5

Uhura glanced back at Spock as they left the turbolift, and the open lust on his face sent a shiver up her spine. He'd become increasingly agitated as they'd hurried from the observation deck, and she'd wondered if they would even make it. Luckily, they'd only passed three crewmen in the corridors, and he had retained barely enough composure to pull himself together each time. Actually, between the two of them, she was probably the one who would be more likely to give it all away. Spock had kissed her with such passion up on the observation deck that she still felt flustered and weak-kneed. Her arousal had to be evident for anyone to see.

They slipped through his door, and she turned to find herself immediately in his strong arms. Clumsy in his desperation, he tore at her uniform while still holding her close; obviously, he didn't even want to let her go long enough to get undressed. His erection pressed insistently against her belly, and when he suddenly bit her on the shoulder, she leaned her head back and thrust herself against him.

Inflamed by her reaction, he growled like an animal and swept her toward the wall with such force that the air rushed from her lungs at impact. She hardly noticed, however, for the next instant his hand landed on her face, and she felt his mind explode into hers with such force that she cried out.

Need, overwhelming need. Desire, lust, aggression...

A green haze clouded her vision, and all she knew was the burning fire between her legs, the aching, painful yearning to feel him plunging into her, taking her with all of his might. Reaching for his jacket, she yanked it open and pushed it down his arms, then tugged on his shirt in frustration until he pulled it off over his head.

His hands were all over her, igniting a fire wherever they touched. She knew remotely that he had ripped her shirt down the front and torn the seam of her skirt, but she didn't care. Suddenly, her skin felt so raw that her clothing actually hurt her flesh, and she knew that she had to get it off as quickly as possible.

She pulled away from him just long enough to shrug out of her tattered shirt and unfasten her bra. Her skirt was already gone, so she kicked off her boots and reached for her underpants. Her haste so great that she scratched her hip with her fingernails, she slipped her hands into the elastic and pushed. As her fingers slid past her waist, however, she couldn't resist running her hand slowly between her legs.

She closed her eyes and moaned, savoring the feel of her own warmth and wetness, but an instant later he startled her by grabbing the fragile elastic in his hands and ripping it to shreds. He was still wearing his uniform pants, and she could see his erection through the heavy fabric. Intent on gripping his hardness, she opened his pants, but before she had reached her goal, he wrapped his fingers around her hand and slowly brought it to his face.

She smiled, her expression feral as she watched him close his eyes and inhale, smelling her scent on her fingers. He seemed calm all of a sudden, almost hypnotized, but she was impatient. A small, pleading sound escaped her throat when she tried to reach into his pants with her free hand, but she needed both hands to get past the pajamas he still wore beneath his uniform.

She twisted her right hand in an attempt to free it, but he tightened his grip, his gaze shifting to her face as if he dared her to struggle against him. He was very still, almost menacing, but she met his eyes defiantly, daring him in turn to try to subdue her.

A tiny smile curved his lips as they stared at one another.

Quick as a snake, he picked her up and dumped her unceremoniously on the floor, then straddled her with his knees tight against her hips. Using one hand to capture both of her wrists and pin them above her head, he reached down with the other and ran his fingers between her legs, just as she had done only moments ago.

She gasped and tried to thrust herself against him, but she couldn't move because of his knees against her hips. Torturing her, clearly wanting to see her squirm, he continued to stroke her lightly. She longed to writhe on the floor, to arch her back and toss her head, but she couldn't. He held her utterly immobile.

His eyes hardly more than dark slits, he watched her. The entire room seemed to be filled with the sound of his loud, hoarse breathing, and she could see his erection strain against his clothing as he knelt above her.

"Now," she begged, her voice so hoarse she didn't recognize it. "Now."

Plunging a finger into her, he croaked, "Does thee join with me?"

"Yes." She tightened her muscles around his finger, desperate for him.

"Parted from me and never parted."

"Yes."

His thumb on her clit as he continued to probe her, he whispered, "Never and always, touching and touched."

"Yes, yes. Now, Spock."

He moved his hand from her crotch to her face, and she saw that his eyes had actually rolled up into his head. She wanted to study him, to drink in his wild, uncontrolled arousal, but she could hardly keep her own vision focused as the madness crept from the corners of her mind.

His fingers slick with her juices, he carefully found the meld points and slowly, so slowly, eased into her mind. His thoughts were savage yet ordered, bloodthirsty yet tender, and as she welcomed him, she saw that this was different than ever before. Instead of a warm, unfocused exploration, his mind in hers was sharp and brilliant, a bright light drawing her to him. Suddenly, she realized that she saw him, truly saw all of him, his strengths and weaknesses, his flaws and his beauty. Together, their thoughts swept upwards, winding together so tightly that she knew they could never be separated again.

She closed her eyes, overcome with the sheer joy of knowing him like this. His own relief flooded through her soul, and his sense of rightness and finality was glorious in its absolute conviction. Somehow, without even knowing how or when he had removed the rest of his clothing, she felt his bare thigh push her legs apart.

Opening herself to him, she realized when she reached for his buttocks that he no longer held her wrists. His entire body was rigid, and she felt the muscles beneath her fingers shift and flex as he thrust into her, once, twice, three times. She clenched her teeth and came almost immediately, then cried out victoriously at having finally found release.

He began to pound into her, moving with such force that she had to grip his upper arms to keep from sliding on the carpet. She lifted her knees as high as she could, arching her back as the tension built in her body again. She could never remember feeling this aroused. The blood pulsated through her vagina, and she yearned for orgasm so badly that it hurt, a real, physical pain that made her want to scream with frustration.

Grunting now with each stroke of his body into hers, he slid his arms between her back and the floor and pulled her to him, coming up on his knees just enough so that he was almost curled around her. His head was bent, his teeth bared against the exact spot where he had bitten her shoulder earlier, and she clung to him with all her strength.

Suddenly crying out in Vulcan, he threw his head back and plunged into her with such force that the tendons at the inside of her legs screamed in protest. She hardly noticed the pain, however, as she spiraled into ecstasy with him, her mind filled with an explosion of blood-green nothingness, the flames licking at the edge of her consciousness.

The next thing she knew, she was flat on the floor again, one leg propped high on his back and the other sprawled limply to the side. Slowly, rational thought returned to her mind. Had she actually passed out, or had she just lost touch with her surroundings? She finally decided that she couldn't have blacked out, because she could still feel the blood emptying from the engorged flesh between her legs.

She twisted her head, trying to look at him, but his face was hidden against her neck and shoulder. His weight on top of her was heavy and boneless, smashing her breasts and constricting her breathing. She tried to endure it, but finally she had to prod him in the ribs to see if he was awake.

"Spock?" she gasped.

"Mmmm." He didn't move.

She smiled and stroked the back of his head. "You're crushing me."

He pushed himself away with great effort and flopped onto his back without opening his eyes. He didn't look good. His lips were bruised and swollen, and he had huge, dark circles under his eyes. His color was really pale, too. She ignored the wetness that dripped from between her legs and scooted over until she could prop herself on his chest and look at his face.

He winced when she touched his lip gently.

"Sorry," she murmured. "Are you all right?"

Barely opening his eyes, he squinted and flinched, obviously bothered by the light.

She addressed the computer. "Lights, twenty percent."

The room dimmed. "Thank you," he whispered.

"How do you feel?"

"Very good, actually."

Laughing softly, she said, "So do I." She paused, her thoughts working around the low-key awareness of him that glowed softly inside. "Is this what it's like to be bonded?"

"Yes." He ran one finger along the side of her face. "As we grow more accustomed to it, we will learn to 'read' one another even while not in physical contact. Many people assume that Vulcans communicate in true conversations via the bond, but that is actually very rare. A more accurate description is that we will always carry a simple cognizance of one another, a comfortable intimacy in which we are always together, even when not together."

She remembered his words of before. "Parted yet never parted."

He nodded. "Never and always, touching and touched."

"That's beautiful." She rubbed his chest. "So, is it over? Pon farr?"

He made a small noise deep in his throat, almost like a chuckle. "No, it is not. This is merely a respite, a few moments of lucidity before the fever returns. In my past experience, pon farr has lasted approximately ten hours. Of course, in my past experience I have been desperate for the fever to pass. Now, I cannot help but anticipate that I will be sorry when it is over."

"It doesn't sound so bad to me, either." She bit her lower lip thoughtfully, but quickly removed her teeth because her mouth was sore. "We won't feel much like working tomorrow, will we?"

"Most definitely not."

"In that case, maybe I'd better leave a message for Captain Kirk requesting a day or two of sick leave."

"That would be wise."

She kissed him gingerly, then pushed herself to her feet and started toward his computer. Her entire body was stiff and sore, but she didn't mind. It actually felt pretty good, almost like the feeling she always got after a vigorous workout. Smiling, she shook her head. If this wasn't a vigorous workout, she didn't know what was.

She leaned against his desk.

"Computer, audio only. Record a message for Captain Kirk."

Instead of prompting her for the message, the computer responded, "Message waiting for either Commander Uhura or Captain Spock from Dr. McCoy. Urgent priority."

She frowned. "Play message."

Dr. McCoy's face appeared, his expression unreadable. "I just wanted to let you know that I've removed you both from duty. Indefinitely. Talk to you in a day or two."

The message ended as abruptly as it had begun, and she raised both eyebrows as she stared at the darkened screen. Well. This was a surprise. She looked up to see that Spock stood near.

"Does Dr. McCoy know?"

"Yes."

She followed him back to the bedroom. "Why did you tell him and not me?"

He sat heavily on the bed, then fell back against the pillow. "I did not tell him. He scanned me on the bridge when I became angry at Korrd, and he discerned my physical condition at that time. As for why I did not tell you, I did not comprehend the meaning behind my fluctuating emotions until I was in the brig with Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy. After that, you and I had very little contact with one another."

"Oh. I see." She sat on the edge of his bed. "You know, I assumed that you asked me to bond with you because you knew you were in pon farr."

He shook his head. "I asked you to bond with me because it was a logical development. I must confess, however, that I had given the matter little prior consideration. A desire to take a mate is a typical symptom of early pon farr. No doubt that was a factor in my impetuosity. In addition, you may recall that I bit your shoulder several times that night. Biting behavior is also typical of pon farr."

She smiled and rubbed that spot on her shoulder. Stretching out next to him, she said, "Well, it doesn't matter why you wanted to bond with me. I can see in your thoughts how you feel about me. This is right."

Heavy-lidded, he murmured, "Yes. It is."

They gazed at one another for a long moment before she finally placed her head on his chest. This would be a long night, and they needed to rest while they could.

...

Spock glanced groggily at the ceiling and saw that the chronometer displayed 1148 hours. So. Unless he was wrong and two days had actually passed, his estimate had been fairly accurate. He had predicted that the fever would be gone in approximately ten hours, and in reality it had lasted twelve point three.

He lay on his side with his chest pressed against Nyota's back. Her breathing was deep and regular, and he did not wish to wake her. He could not remember all the events of last night with clarity, but he knew that he and she had not slept a great deal.

The bond hummed quietly in the back of his mind, warm and comforting, quiescent while she slept. He still found it difficult to believe that they were bonded. Finally, irrevocably. All his life, he had been alone, but he had never understood how truly lonely he had been until now. Even when bonded to T'Pring, he had been an island unto himself. How had he survived? He should have done this long ago.

She stirred, and he winced at the slight friction against his skin. Pulling away just enough to look down, he saw ten perfectly parallel grooves down his chest. They were surrounded by dried blood except for one spot that oozed bright green, evidently reopened by her movement. Casting back to the events of last night, he recovered a very faint memory. She had been astride him, and when she reached orgasm she had scored his chest with her fingernails. He had found it wildly stimulating at the time, and he feared that perhaps his reaction had been overly enthusiastic. No doubt he would find clear imprints of his hands if he checked her hips.

A warm flutter in his mind told him that she was about to awaken, so he bent toward her shoulder and brushed his lips gently against the bruises that had been left by his teeth.

"Good morning, Nyota."

She stretched and twisted in his arms until she faced him sleepily. "Good morning. I think. Is it morning?"

"It is actually almost afternoon."

"Really? How time flies."

She snuggled close, but he saw her grimace when she tried to put her arm around his shoulder.

"Ouch." She frowned. "I think I hurt my arm."

He grasped her upper arm and rotated it, watching her shoulder closely. She did not protest, so he breathed a sigh of relief. "It does not appear that I dislocated anything."

"It's fine. But look at your chest! Did I do that?"

"Yes, and I suspect that my back looks somewhat the same."

"I'm sorry."

Almost smiling, he regarded her. "I do not think that you need to apologize."

"I guess not. Do you feel all right? Is it over now?"

"Yes to both questions."

She nodded. "So, what's next?"

"Next? What type of wedding do you want, Nyota Uhura?"

A grin spread across her face as she looked up at him. "Here on the ship. With just our closest friends. We'll have to figure out how to get Saavik here. She'd never forgive us if we left her out."

"Very well. We will marry on the ship as soon as Saavik arrives."

"Is that all right with you? I would have thought that you might want a ceremony on Vulcan."

"On the contrary, I would prefer not to have a Vulcan bonding ceremony. It holds some rather unpleasant associations for me. A simple ceremony here on the ship would be much better."

She smiled, and he felt an answering warmth through the link. She was very happy.

As was he.

...

Folding his arms across his chest, Kirk looked around the table at his senior officers. He'd asked them to meet on the observation deck tonight, and now they were talking excitedly among themselves as they speculated on the reason. Chekov had even repeatedly asked point-blank what this was about, but Kirk wouldn't answer any questions. Actually, he couldn't have told them even if he'd wanted to, because he didn't know, himself. Spock had requested this gathering, and Spock and Uhura hadn't yet arrived.

Well, maybe he had an idea what it might be about.

The door opened, and he looked up to see Spock and Uhura enter the room. Neither spoke as they found seats at the table, but he noticed that Spock took great care to ensure that he was seated next to her. Because the group was now complete, everyone fell quiet and turned expectantly in Kirk's direction.

He stood. "I see that you're all wondering why I called you here tonight. As you know, we usually gather like this when I have an announcement to make. This time, however, I'm as much in the dark as you are." He grinned and turned toward Spock. "Mr. Spock?"

Spock nodded formally and stood, and Kirk took his seat. Spock looked very dignified tonight, even more serious and somber than usual, and Kirk watched the other crewmembers' faces with interest. Clearly, none of them had anticipated that Spock might be the one making the announcement. They all waited, obviously very curious about what he might have to say.

"As Captain Kirk stated," he began, "I have an announcement I wish to share with all of you. It has taken me far too many years to reach this crossroads, but I have asked Commander Uhura to be my wife..." He looked down at her, his face suddenly softening, "...and she has consented."

He raised his hand with two fingers extended, and she stood and touched her fingertips to his. Her face was radiant as she gazed up at him, and when she faced the others, Kirk thought that he'd never seen her look so beautiful. Kirk smiled back at her, then turned to see everyone else's reactions.

Laughing, McCoy said, "Well, I'll be damned. Congratulations! I'd almost decided that you'd never do it."

"Thank you, Doctor."

Sulu also laughed, jumping out of his seat to give Uhura a big hug. "Congratulations, Nyota. I hope you're very happy."

She closed her eyes and kissed him, murmuring, "I am, Hikaru, I am."

His reaction more restrained, Scott nodded slowly but didn't leave his seat, and Kirk noticed that he didn't seem surprised by the news. Chekov, however, sat in open-mouthed shock. He did not even speak at first, but finally he looked around at the others and exclaimed, "Bozhe moi! Everyone knew about this but me? Nyota! You and Spock?"

She nodded. "Yes. Me and Spock."

"But..." he sputtered, "How long... Why didn't I know? I had no idea. You're getting married?"

"Yes! I'm getting married!"

"To Mr. Spock?"

She laughed and looked up at Spock. "Oh, yes."

Chekov muttered something in Russian, then came to his feet and kissed her on the cheek. A moment later, Scotty grudgingly did the same, and as Kirk watched, Uhura met Scotty's eyes. It appeared that something passed between the two of them, but Scotty took his seat again, and soon they were all involved in a discussion about the plans for the wedding.

End chapter 5


	6. Chapter 6

Time is the Fire, chapter 6

Saavik leaned over just far enough to peer into the ship's chapel. Her heart was pounding, but she could not determine why. Of course she was rather excited-she had anticipated this day for many years, so excitement was probably acceptable-but she thought that it was more than that. Could it be that she was nervous? The symptoms certainly fit a nervous state: damp palms, a churning sensation in her stomach, an accelerated heart rate. Why should she be nervous? All she had to do was walk that short distance and stand at the front of the room. If anyone should be nervous, it would be Nyota.

She shifted from one foot to another, and turned toward Nyota. "Are you nervous?"

Nyota smiled. "Maybe a little."

"You do not appear nervous."

"Good. I'm too old to be a jittery bride."

Frowning, Saavik considered this for a moment. "Is that not normally the term applied to someone who does not know what to expect on her wedding night? You are correct that you do not fit that description. I know for a fact that you and Spock have already-"

"Okay, Saavik. I get the idea."

Saavik nodded and shuffled her feet again. Perhaps if she prodded the heel of one boot with the toe of the other...

She looked up to see Nyota watching her.

"Is something the matter?" Nyota asked.

"These boots hurt my feet. Why can Starfleet not design a comfortable dress boot?"

Nyota chuckled. "Maybe it's not the boot. It seems like I remember a little girl who didn't like her shoes at another wedding."

"Who?"

"You, Saavik. The very first time I met you, you refused to keep your shoes on your feet. We were at Sulu's wedding. Do you remember?"

"Yes. Of course. Spock made me wear those terrible shoes that prissy little girls wear. They were exceedingly uncomfortable. I was pleased when he finally allowed me to take them off."

"I don't think he_ allowed _you to do anything. You kicked one of them off in the middle of the service, and he finally gave in to keep you from disrupting anything." Nyota sighed. "That seems so long ago."

"It was, Nyota. Why did you and Spock wait so long to get married? I told you all along that you belonged together."

"You sure did," she teased. "I guess we should have listened to you."

"It certainly would have been the logical thing to do. It would have saved you a great deal of wasted time." Saavik turned back toward the doorway at the sound of footsteps. "Look, Nyota. Here they come."

Nyota rested gentle fingers on Saavik's arm as she gazed over the younger woman's shoulder. Walking from a small room at the side of the chapel, Spock led the way, followed by Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy. All three men looked very dignified as they found their places and turned toward the back of the chapel. Music played softly in the background, and Saavik recognized Pachelbel.

"Oh, isn't he handsome?" Nyota squeezed Saavik's arm. "Do I look all right?"

Saavik faced Nyota again. "Yes, you look very pretty."

"Thank you." Nyota inhaled purposefully. "Well, let's go."

Saavik nodded, squared her shoulders, and entered the chapel. The aisle was very short, and she reminded herself to walk slowly. There were not a great deal of people present, but when they all turned in her direction, she felt the fluttering in her stomach return. Of course, none of them were actually looking at her-they were looking behind her, at Nyota-but nevertheless, a sudden awkward self-consciousness made it difficult for her to walk normally.

She looked ahead at Spock and was amazed at the expression on his face. He appeared transfixed as he stared beyond Saavik, his eyes sharp and his posture very straight. She could see the hint of a smile on his lips, and she wondered if it had anything to do with Nyota's hair. Last night, Saavik had helped Nyota pick out a new hair color, a rich brown with red overtones, and Nyota had told Saavik to watch for Spock's reaction. She had not told him that she planned to change her hair; evidently, it was a surprise, and it held a hidden significance that she had not revealed to Saavik. Judging by Spock's face, he both appreciated the significance and approved the change.

Finally, they were at the front, and Saavik stepped aside to make room for Nyota. She took a moment to ensure she found the exact spot where she had been instructed to stand, then looked up to watch Nyota's approach.

Nyota's face was radiant, and she tilted her chin as she neared so she could look up at Spock's face. She stopped, and the two of them continued to gaze at each other for a long moment, neither looking away until Kirk moved from his position by Spock's side to the front of the chapel. Saavik was somewhat relieved when they faced forward. She had felt as if she was intruding on a private moment, but even though she knew she should have dropped her eyes, she had not been able to stop herself from watching.

Kirk smiled and began. "We are gathered here today..."

...

"I can't believe it! Our quarters." Uhura walked over to the high table by the wall and rested her hand on his firepot. "No more sneaking around. Never again will we elbow each other all night because we're both squeezed into your small bed, or will I panic because someone is about to look in my closet and find your uniform hanging there."

"I agree that this will simplify our lives a great deal. Unless, of course, you continue to insist that I carry you through the door."

She laughed and turned back to him. "Don't worry. That's just a human custom. A groom is supposed to carry his bride over the threshold on their wedding night... But you know that! I can tell by looking at you. You're pulling my leg."

"Ah." He moved close. "Pulling your leg. Is this another archaic human wedding custom?"

She looked up at him through her lashes. "No, but I like the sound of it."

"Perhaps I can 'pull your leg' later. Now, however, I have a different task I wish to complete."

He walked over to the desk. She followed, curious, and saw that a large envelope rested on the desktop. Scribbled on it were the words 'Hope this is what you wanted.' She recognized Captain Kirk's handwriting, but before she could look for any other identifying marks, Spock picked it up and carried it over to the bookshelf.

"What is that?" she asked.

"You will see."

He took down his grandmother's old photo album, and she remembered the day Spock had taken her to visit his human grandmother. The elderly woman had taken the album down from the shelf and showed Uhura her treasured old photographs, images of Spock's ancestors spanning hundreds of years. She had told Spock that day not only that she wanted him to have the album after her death, but that she wanted him to continue the tradition of adding two-dimensional photographs of his own to its pages. Sometime after that, his grandmother had died, and even though Spock and Uhura had ended their relationship by then, they had retrieved the album together and begun the slow process of mending their fences.

Uhura brought herself back to the moment and watched Spock walk over to the sofa, the album and the envelope in his hands. He sat down, and then he looked up at her until she joined him. He opened the album and carefully turned the pages past his grandparent's wedding, Amanda's childhood, Amanda and Sarek's wedding, his own childhood... Finally, he reached the first blank page, and when she looked closer, she saw that there were already four empty tabs in place.

He opened the envelope and slid out a large, glossy photograph.

"That must be the picture Captain Kirk took of us right after the wedding!" she exclaimed. "How did it get here?"

"He was kind enough to deliver it while we were at the reception."

"Can I see it?"

"In one moment."

Clearly amused at her impatience, he took his time fitting the photograph into the tabs, and finally handed the album over to her. Settling it in her lap, she leaned close. They had posed formally, and she stood on the left. Her hair looked good. She should have colored it a long time ago. In the center stood Spock, an expression of unmistakable pride on his face. And there, on the right, was Saavik. Tall and beautiful, she beamed at the camera, utterly straight-faced but her eyes bright with excitement and satisfaction.

"Oh, Spock. This is incredible. Thank you."

"You are welcome, my wife."

She looked up in surprise. "Say that again."

"You are welcome."

"Not that part."

"My wife," he murmured.

She smiled. "My husband."

He raised his hand and extended two fingers. The gesture was simple, and they'd touched like this hundreds of times before, but for some reason she had to swallow past a lump in her throat when she matched her hand to his.

"Parted from me and never parted," she said, her voice suddenly unsteady.

He nodded gently. "Never and always, touching and touched."

"Never and always," she echoed.

She gazed into his eyes, rolling the words around in her mind. Never and always; never, and always. A lifetime, or maybe even an eternity. Somehow, it sounded like an awfully long time.

It sounded... wonderful.

End story

This story is dedicated to Suzie.

The next story in this series is The Secret Gate.


End file.
